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LANDLORD AND TENANT. 



AN HUSH DRAMA, 



IN FOUR ACTS. 



BY H. A. LEWIS. 



ST. LOUIS, MO.: 

THE GILBERT BOOK COMPANY, 

1882. 



LANDLORD AND TENANT. 



AN IRISH DRAMA, 



IN FOUR ACTS. 



BY H. A. LEWIS. 



L ; 



§>o# 



ST. LOUIS, MO.: 

THE GILBERT BOOK COMPANY, 

1882. 



r 






Entered according to Act of Congress in the year eighteen hundred and 

eighty-two, by 

KC. .A.. LEWIS, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



David atwood, 

PRINTER AND STEREOTYPER, 
MADISON, WIS. 



LANDLORD AND TENANT. 



PERSONS REPRESENTED. 
Lokd Dunrose, Earl of Dunrose Castle, Ireland. 
Lord Arthur, Son of Lord Dunrose. 
Pat McTiernan, Valet to Lord Arthur. 
John Macguire, Steward of Dunrose Castle. 
Tim Grady, Bailiff. 
Collins, Attorney for the Crown. 
Flinnagan, Attorney at Law. 
Brady, Irish- American Attorney. 
Dennis O'Brian, Grandson of John O'Brian. 
John O'Brian. Servant on Dunrose Estate. 
Margaret O'Brian, Wife of John O'Brian. 
Lena O'Brian, Granddaughter of John O'Brian. 
Bridget O'Brian, Granddaughter of John O'Brian. 
Lady Dunrose, Wife of Lord Dunrose. 
Lady Cecilia, Daughter of Lord Dunrose. 
Judge, Guards and Jury. 



ACT I. 

Scene 1.— Lodgings in London. Lord Arthur and Pat Mc- 

Tiernan. 

Lord Arthur (well in Ms cups). Home again ! Home again ! 
Well, it is a relief to get back to Old England once more, and out of 
that blasted country. Give me a chair. Say, now, by Jove, are you 
aure this is my place ? No mistake ? No scenes ? No more rows ? 
I had enough of that sort of thing in America. That blasted 
malaria, it is all through me, even in my hair. My hat don't fit, 
Take it away. 

Pat McTiernan. Yes, sir, this is your place ; rest easy about that ; 
no trouble here. (Aside.) His conscience hurts him, and he has 
been drinking a little drop too much and calls it malaria. Well, 
this is pretty good. But I will get him into bed, for. the journey has 
been too much for him and he needs rest, for the governor will 



4 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

want to see him to morrow, and he will then have malaria in his 
head and hair sure enough, for my Lord, you drew too many drafts 
on the governor. (Aloud.) Now, as you are not well, just let me 
put you into bed, my Lord, and you will feel better. 

Lord Arthur. Well, may be I would. But, Fat, what do you think 
will become of Lena? And if the governor only knew about her, 
what would he do? And the drafts — do you think they have 
reached here yet? By Jove, I am ruined; and my constitution is 
full of that accursed malaria, and it seems I will never get rid of it. 
Pat McTiernan- Cheer up, my Lord; never take more trouble on 
your head than you can kick off at your heels, you know. And 
remember all the fun you had while in America — hunting, fishing 
and gambling. 

Lord Arthur. Yes, gambling; and the drafts, and the woman, and 
my father when he finds it all out. Don't tell him, Pat, for the 
world; don't tell him. Oh, that malaria! that malaria! Let me get 
to bed. What is that knocking at the door? Oh, my father's voice. 
Let me retire, quick. I cannot see him to night, my constitution is 
so racked. Oh, the malaria! Tell him that, Pat, but not about the 
woman and the gambling; but about hunting and fishing, and how 
expensive it all is — that is a good fellow. (Lord Arthur enters 
another room.) 

Pat McTiernan. Now for my Lord, and a pretty tale I must tell; 
all for the sake of a man, my master, whose vices are many and 
whose virtues are few, and merits the contempt of every man and 
woman. But the woman he so basely deserted — he may well think 
of her; for unless I am mistaken as to the situation, Pat McTiernan 
has set the ball in motion that will humble the proud house of Dun- 
rose, and make my Lord Arthur have reason to say, I have malaria 
all through me. (Enter Lord Dunrose.) 

Lord Dunrose. Well, Pat, where is your master; he is here, I sup- 
pose? I want to see him. Tell him so. 

Pat McTiernan. Your Lordship, he is here; but on account of be- 
ing knocked up from tlie journey and having the malaria pretty bad, 
he has retired, sir. 

Lord Dunrose. What, retired? and not to see me? Go and tell 
him I want to see him at once. 

Pat McTiernan. Very good, sir. (Aside.) Now the war opsns 
and a fine time we will have of it, to be sure. 
Lord Dunrose. Hold, Pat; do you say he has already retired? 



LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 5 

Pat McTiernan. I did, your Lordship. 

Lord Dunrose. Here, here! Come back here, and I will ask you a 
few questions, and see to it that you tell me truth; and you can tell 
your master in the morning, I want to see him at once. 

Pat McTiernan. As it please your Lordship; and how could I de- 
ceive your Lordship about anything. 

Lord Dunrose. Now. Pat, I want to know what your master did 
with all the money he spent in America. I hear he took old 
O'Brian's granddaughter away from Dunrose Castle, and that she 
went to America with him; but keeping her does not account for 
the extravagance he indulged in Did he bring her back with him ? 

Pot McTiernan. Your Lordship knows it is not the duty of a 
servant to inquire into his master's concerns, and leastways tell what 
he sees that would not be to the credit of his master; but the young 
woman was left in IS ew York. (Aside.) But in good hands, that 
will not stop with her long, if my name is Pat McTiernan, and can 
judge. 

Lord Dunrose. You have grown very honest in your duty to your 
master, but this won't do to me; for while you serve him you are in 
my service; for he being my son and under my protection, makes 
you n\j servant while serving him. So now to it, and tell me what 
you know. Did he bet or gamble in any way while over there? 

Pat McTiernan. Your Lordship knows all gentlemen gamble 
with their friends, and a lord would not be a lord who would not bet 
on a horse-race. And my master is a very line gentleman and fol- 
lows the example of his most noble father, and tried to keep up the 
reputation of his ancestors while in America, and may be it did take 
a good bit of money; but I know my place, sir, and do not ask ques- 
tions of my betters. 

Lord Dunrose. Where did he go? and what did he do? 

Pat McTiernan. Your Lordship well knows it is- an awful big 
country, and he went all over it. Hunted buffalo on the Staked 
Plains, hooked trout in the Rocky Mountains, killed bear in the Yel- 
lowstone Park, and panthers in New Mexico; and as there are mighty 
few railroads in that country, it takes a good bit of money to travel 
And money seems so plenty where they dig it out of the mountains, 
it goes easy; and for my master to live as the rest of the fine young 
men out there, it cost him a good bit of money. Ah! your Lord- 
ship, to see a bushel of gold pieces stacked upon the gambling table 
makes a man's mouth water for it, and before he knows it will run 



6 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

his hand iu his pocket for his money to win some of it. Every- 
body is trying his best to win that pile of money. Ah, you never 
saw the likes of it. And away out West, where } r ou wouldn't think 
the likes of money ever was at all. 

Lord Dunrose. Yes, yes; I see it all. You have told enough; I 
see it all. You never saw any one win in lhat game, I will warrant. 
Pat McTieman. Ah, sure and I did. One man won a bucketful 
and then lost all again. Bad luck to him ! 

Lord Dunrose. I see how it all is. Tell your master [ want to see 
him the first thing in the morning, and to let nothing interfere with 
his coming to me. Do you hear? 

Pat McTieman. I do, your Lordship, and will deliver your mes- 
sage. (Aaide.) And little he'll want to come, to be sure. (Exit 
Lord Dunrose. Enter Lord Arthur.) 

Lord Arthur. Pat, Pat, bring me some brandy and soda. This 
malaria! this malaria! it will be the death of me! What did the old 
governor say ? Was he much mad ? 

Pat McTieman. His Lordship was very anxious to see you, and 
says he must see you the first thing in the morning. 

Lord Arthur. He wanted to see me, and must see me in the morn- 
ing; and did he say what he wanted to see me about? 

Pat McTieman. He asked me about the trip, and what you did 
with so much money, and whether or not you gambled. 

Lord Arthur. I see. I am ruined man, a ruined man, when the 
old governor finds it all out. And the girl, does he know about her, 
too? 

Pat McTieman. Yes, my master; he asked me about her also, 
and if you brought her back with you. Bat when I told him you 
left her in New York, he seemed to be satisfied with it. 

Lord Arthur. This malaria (holding glass in his hand), it will be 
the death of me ! I wish this glass was large enough, I would drown 
myself in it. But here goes to drown myself from the inside. Now, 
Pat, stow me away where I can forget myself and go to sleep. Oh, 
if there be one joy left for me on earth, its name is brandy and soda. 
Oh, this malaria! It is all through me. 

(End of scene 1.) 

Scene II. — Lord Dunrose's Mansion in London. Enter Lord 

Dunrose. 
Lord Dunrose. Well, I do not like the fix this confounded boy 
has gotten me into. It is not pleasant; it is perplexing, for I do not 



LANDLORD AND TENANT. 7 

exactly see my way out of it. How he could have spent five thou 
sands pounds in one year, in such a country as the United States, to 
keep up the dignity of the name he bears, is what I do not under- 
stand. I can't see through it. I shall have a sharp talk with him. 
As far as the girl goes, it does not much matter. I cannot blame 
him, for she was very pretty, and he turned her loose, too, where she 
can get her living by tying to the first man who has money and will 
take her as his mistress. Bat to have so much trouble to collect 
rents from those brutes of tenants, and have a son with such a genius 
for spending money, do not go well together. But we will see. It 
may not be so bad after all. (Eater Lord Arthur.) Ho'w now, 
Arthur? I did not get to see you last night. Your man said you 
were very tired and not well, so had retired early. Hope you are all 
right to-day, and returned full of valuable information of America, 
and ready to shine when the Queen calls you to the House of Lords. 

Lord Arthur. I am most happy to see you, father, and looking so 
well. I was not well last night and retired early. Malaria, sir; have 
been troubled with it of late. Have seen a great deal of America, 
but it is all a bore, I assure you, sir — positively all a bore. All so 
primitive; nothing worth mentioning or caring for. To be sure 
there is the hunting and fishing, but one has to go so far to get it. 
And when you get where the game is, any common fellow who 
chances to come up with you, if he is a better shot than you are, will 
carry off the game. All a bore, I assure you, and so very expensive. 
Every one you meet wants to make all he can out of you; and one 
pays so clearly for all he gets. I have brought a few trifles as souv- 
enirs of the exploits I had while there, but they are not worth men- 
tioning, I assure you; only valuable from association. 

Lord Dwirose. You certainly enjoyed yourself while there. 

Lord Arthur. Well, yes, after a fashion; but everything was so 
very primitive and uncongenial, you know. Everybody on perfect 
social equality; no distinction between a gentleman and his groom 
you know. By Jove, it was disgusting. 

Lord Dunrose. It seems to me, you indulged slightly in that sort 
of thing yourself before leaving for America. Ha! ha! 

Lord Arthur. How so ? I assure you I do not comprehend. 

Lord Dunrose. Well, Lena O' Brian, for instance, was a maid at 
Dunrose Castle, and I have been informed that you persuaded her to 
leave there and go with you to America. 

Lord Arthur. Who told you so ? 



8 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

Lord Dunrose. Now, come, I am not blaming you for it. I admit 
she was very pretty; but, you know, choose even your mistresses 
from your own circle, if you want to avoid trouble. But you got rid 
of her like a man, and left her in New York. A very good place to 
leave her. 

Lord Arthur. Who told you all that nonsense. You would make 
it appear that you were better posted in my affairs than I am myself. 
By Jove, you would. 

Lord Dunrose. Well, never mind, it is something else I wanted 
to talk to you about. My agent informed me you had drawn on him 
for five thousand pounds while you were gone. Are the drafts yours, 
or are they forgeries ? I must know, for if they are not yours, he 
shall lose every one of them he has paid; for you had enough money 
when you left here to have lasted until your return. 

Lord Arthur. Well, by Jove, that fellow promised not to forward 
them for collection until such time as I could meet them, and I do not 
think it will amount to that much. It is very expensive in America, 
you know, and then a fellow has to keep up with the men he runs 
with, you know; and by Jove, I was with the best bloods, and we 
had a capital time. They bet high and have the best of everything 
the land affords, no matter what it costs; and I kept up with the 
best of them, and sustained the reputation of the British peerage, 
you know; by Jove I did. Then out West there was the game of 
"Monte;" and the way the boys play it, by Jove it is good. Thou- 
sands change hands in less than no time. By Jove, they play high 
and no mistake; you " bet " they do. 

Lord Dunrose. And you played with the boys? 

Lord Arthur. Oh, yes; I learned the game for amusement. You 
see there was not mucli else to do out there. 

Lord Dunrose. I should like to know how the game is played. 

Lord Arthur. Don't you do it f Don't you do it ! 

Lord Dunrose. Don't do what? 

Lord Arthur. Try to learn monte. It is too expensive ; you would 
be a pauper in a week. Poker ain't a circumstance. 

Lord Dunrose. Ah, I see. I see where all the money went to. So 
you undertook to learn this game, and found, when too late, how 
expensive it was. 

Lord Arthur (aside). I have given myself dead away, and do 
not know how to get out of it. I wish Pat was here, the dirty black- 
guard; he could help me out of it, I know. (Aloud.) Oh, not by 



LANDLORD AND TENANT. 9 

any means, I assure you. Only played a little for amusement, but 
saw how U was from observation, you know; by Jove I did. (Aside.) 
I feel the malaria coming on. 

Lord Dunrose. Well, well, we will have to collect the rents more 
closely, and not let any of the brutes escape; and you will have to 
live more quietly now than I had intended you should. 

Lord Arthur (aside). It is a great relief to get out of it so easily, 
and as long as he goes for the tenants, it is all right with me. 
(Aloud.) Thank you, father, I always knew you were a trump ; by 
Jove I did. 

Lord Dunrose. Well, you know, I used to be a little inclined that 
way myself; very fond of the girls. Ha! ha! And I see you are a 
chip off of the old block. I can not blame you for what I used to 
do myself. But be careful in the future, my boy, be careful in the 
future. 

(Enter Ladies Dunrose and Cecilia.) 

Lord Arthur. My very dear mother, and my dear sister, how 
do you both do ? I assure you I am very glad to see you after my 
long absence. 

Lady Dunrose. I am very well, and happy to see you back once 
more. 

Lady Cecilia. I am delighted to see you, but Pa says you have 
been very naughty and spent so much money it will most break us 
up; and those miserable wretches of tenants have no feeling for us, 
and only think of themselves. They do not want to pay the rent, 
and say their houses are not good enough — the mean things, when 
they are as good as they are used to having. 

Lady Dunrose. Well, my dear son, we have, as your sister says, 
been very much distressed ; but I feel like turning every one of 
those ungrateful wretches out of our houses and farms, for they try 
t • give us all the trouble they can, and are wanting everything but 
to pay their rent; and that is too high for them, they say, and harp 
on their rights, as if they had any rights! Why, they have none ! 
And if I had my way, and it was left to me, I would turn them all 
out of doors and let them try that a while, and I pledge my word 
they would be glad enough to pay the rent in the future, and make 
no complaint about it. 

Lord Dunrose. As your mother and sister have just said, the ten- 
ants are giving us all the trouble they can, and every mail brings 
news of some additional complaints from some of them. I have so 



10 LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 

far refrained from proceeding to extremities, but we must live, our- 
selves, and have money to keep up our establishment; we must live 
and entertain befitting our station, and to do so we must have our 
rents paid. 

Lady Dunrose. Tes, we must refurnish our house this season, and 
I must have suitable apparel to appear in, wherever I go. 

Lady Cecilia. And I must have ever so many new dresses, as I 
have worn all I now have, and you know a young lady of station 
never wears the same dress to more than one party, and we already 
have invitations to scores of grand parties this season; and I would 
drive those tenants all out of doors if they cannot pay the rent, and 
get others that would . 

Lord Dunrose. Here comes the mail now, and we will see what 
further news from Dunrose Castle. Here is a letter from Macguire. 
"We will open it first, and see what there is in regard to our affairs 
over there. (Opens and reads.) 

" Tour Lordship hardly knows or realizes the condition of things 
here. There are many of the tenants who have declared they are 
unable, at present, to pay the rent now due, but promise to pay next 
season. Their crops have been very short on account of a bad sea- 
son, but they yet hope to meet their arrears. But there are some 
who will never be able to pay, old John O'Brian among the num- 
ber, who, though he has been a good tenant heretofore, is now very 
old and his wife is feeble, and since his grandson was transported, 
and his granddaughter left her place and ran away, it has gone very 
hard with them ; but without your orders. I would not give them 
notice." 

Lady Dunrose. If they are too old to work, let them go to the 
poor-house. We certainly eannot afford to keep them on a good 
farm for nothing. Whoever heard of such a thing! No, no, they 
must go. 

Lord Dunrose (reading): "I am of the opinion that not more 
than half the usual return can be relied upon from the entire estate, 
and all the tenants demand better houses and more fertilizers or a 
great reduction in the rent." 

Lady Dunrose. That means I cannot get new furniture and give 
my usual entertainments. 

Lady Cecilia. And that I will have to do without my new dresses, 
and will have to stay at home this season. 

Lord Dunrose. Tes, yes ; but it would not be so bad if it had not 



LANDLORD AND TENANT. 11 

been for Arthur's extravagance. Just think of spending five thou- 
sand pounds, and for nothing! At that rate he would consume the 
best estates in all the land. 

Lord Arthur. I have the malaria very badly; all- through me; 
and I feel very badly. I believe I will go to my lodgings. 
Lady Dunrose. Why, Arthur, what is the matter with you? 
Lord Arthur. You see I was exposed a good deal, you know, 
while in America, and got my system full of malaria, and it settled 
in my head, and it cost me a good bit of money to get it cured ; but 
it still affects me when anything worries me, or I get fatigued. I 
think I had better go to my lodgings and rest a while. 

Lord Dunrose. No, sir, you must not go now ! But this seems 

very strange; I never heard of such a thing as malaria in the head. 

Lord Arthur. No, it does not occur out of America, you know. 

Lord Dunrose. So it was to get rid of this strange affliction, was 

where the immense amount of money you have spent has gone to, 

is it? 

Lord Arthur. Well, yes. But the fellow said he would wait for 
the money, you know, and he has sent the drafts on. And besides, 
he guaranteed a permanent cure, and you see it still affects me. I 
had better go now, I think. 

Lady Dunrose. This is dreadful to think of. And those miser- 
able, ungrateful wretches who want to ruin us. I would have Mac- 
guire to give notice to those tenants, every one, who did not pay the 
rent, and those O'Brians particularly; they are all ungrateful. Just 
to think of that Lena who left our service and ran away, and created 
a scandal at our castle, and when she had a good place and good 
pay — two pounds the year — and to run off with some worthless 
fellow. I know it was some worthless fellow she ran off with. 
And there is that Dennis who was transported. He will be getting 
away and coming back, and will be sure to give us trouble. Do 
not talk to me, my Lord Dunrose, you had better attend to this at 
once, for we must live, as well as those miserable wretches. And 
our poor Arthur, see how afflicted he is. 

Lady Cecilia. I quite agree with mother. There is no other way 
to do justice to ourselves but to get rid of all no-account, worthless 
tenants, and get some that can pay the rent. And as mother says, 
especially the O'Brians must go, and if they are old, they can go to 
the poor-house. 
Lord Dunrose. Well, well, I suppose that is the best that can be 



12 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

done; and I will write to Macguire and tell him to give them 
notice. What say you, Arthur, about the O'Brians? May be they 
can go to America, where they may meet some of their friends. 

Lord Arthur. Ah, I assure you, I cannot give any advice about 
it, you know; it has been so long since I was there, you know. But 
you must have the rent, you know. I feel very badly and must go. 
(Exit Lord Arthur.) 

Lady Dunrose. Poor fellow, poor fellow, he is so afflicted. 

Lady Cecilia. Oh, it is too bad that he should suffer so much. 

Lord Dunrose. I will send the orders to-day, and I will warrant 
when I get through, the tenants at Dunrose will be glad enough to 
accept my terms. And you need have no fears about the O'Brians, 
for I share your views. (Aside.) But for different reasons; and did 
they but know how nearly they affected poor Arthur. I go at once 
to attend to these matters. 

Lady Dunrose. And we go to arrange for our entertainments. 

(Exit all.) 

(End act 1.) 



ACT II. 

Scene 1. — CBrian Cottage, Ireland. Enter John and Margaret 

O' Brian. 

John 0' Brian. Poverty! poverty! It steals upon us with an iron 
grasp, and soon the little life left in us will be hushed forever. 

Margaret C Brian. John, do not cry out against Providence, but 
be thankful it is no worse. We still have this place to live in. 

John C Brian. Yes, yes; but when I remember that my own fore- 
fathers owned all these lands, and were robbed of them, and that I 
gave my own best years in defense of Great Britain, and followed 
the noble Wellington through all his wars, and that our son died 
fighting for his country at Sebastapol, and how we have devoted 
fifty years to working this little farm and have paid all the profits of 
our life-long labor to enrich our landlords, and see how they have 
wronged us in every way; and now to see ruin staring us in the face, 
and no prospect for improvement, it is too much to endure without 
complaining. 

Margaret 0' Brian. All you say is true, too true; but try not to 
look on the dark side. Hope that there will be some relief sent us, 
and at least we will have this place, though humble, that we can 



LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 13 

still call home. Cheer up, my good man. We have indeed suffered 
much oppression in the loss of our two grandchildren, but they will 
yet come back to us, to cheer our old age, aud while we have this 
old place, we will struggle on and hope for the best. (Knocking at 
the door.) 

John 0' Brian. Who is there? Go, Margaret, and let them in. 
There are some people at the door. (Enter Tim Grady, bailiff, and 
assistant.) How now ! how now ! You have not come again for the 
rent, to pester an old man, when you know he has had no chance to 
get aDy money for you. God help us! God help us ! J 

Tim Grady. My Lord Dunrose has ordered notice to quit to be 
served on all the tenants who have not paid the rent, and I have 
come to execute his orders, and serve notice on you. 

Margaret 0' Brian. My God, can this be true! After all we have 
suffered, that now as winter is coming on, we two old people are to 
be turned out of doors ! You cannot mean it. 

Tim Grady. It is true, Mrs. O'Brian, and here is the written no- 
tice. I leave it with you, Mr. O'Brian, and the law only gives you 
ten days to vacate the premises; and if at the end of that time you 
are not gone, I have my orders to eject you, every one. (Exit Tim 
Grady.) 

John O'Brian. What shall we do! what can we do! And no 
place to go to. And no friends to help us in our troubles. Oh, 
what can we do ! What will become of us I cannot tell. 

Margaret O'Brian. If only Dennis were here he could take care 
of and provide for us; but he was transported because he loved his 
country and his people, and joined a society that was striving to 
relieve their oppression and secure their freedom. 

John O'Brian. Two old people, helpless! and yet driven out to 
starve for the sake of a few shillings due a lord who spends his 
thousands of pounds a year in fast living and furnishing his son 
money with which to seduce and debauch our daughters, the 
money being wrung from the hard earnings of the poor. And when 
misfortune overtakes our crops, though they have enjoyed the profits 
of our labor for years, yet they will not give us a chance to live; 
but must drive us out like dumb brutes to starve. This is too much, 
too much to bear ! 

Margaret O'Brian. Oh, it cannot be that Lord Dunrose can be so 
heartless. He will not drive us out. It cannot be possible that he 
means to have it done. I cannot believe that it is possible. 



14 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

John 0' Brian. I wish I thought so; but this notice — curse the 

thing — is the badge of our servitude; and like the old horse when 

he ceases to be of service, is driven out to die. So with us. We 

have lived too long. Outlived our usefulness, and must be turned. 

out to die. (Exit all.) 

(End scene 1.) 

Scene 2. — On the road in Ireland. Enter Dennis O'Brian, singing 
an Irish song. 

Dennis O'Brian. Back to dear old Ireland once more, and on the 
road to Dunrose Castle. To morrow I will be at the old home-place 
again. How long it seems since I left. I wonder what the boys 
are doing in Australia. It was too good the way I gave the guard 
the slip. An Irishman will be an Irishman wherever he goes, and 
the jack tars ou the Clipper ship — God bless them — stowed me 
away, and here I am, well and hearty, and not much the worse for 
the wear, after three years' service in a foreign country. But I must 
keep very quiet or the constables will be after me — bad luck to 
them — and send me back again, and that won't suit me very well ; so I 
must be on the lookout for the devils — may the curse of Mulchaley 
be upon them. I wonder how the old folks are, and my two sisters. 
All well, no doubt, as bad news never needs a carrier; it always 
goes itself. So as devil a bit of a word have I heard, that must be 
good news to me. And I will be there to morrow and set them all 
happy, no doubt. To-night I'll just sleep in the hedge and not dis- 
turb them, and as I am used to rough times, it will not hurt me; and 
may be I will dream of home and the good time I will have when 
I get there. (Exit, singing.) 

(End scene 2.) 

Scene 3. — O'Brian Cottage. Enter John and Margaret O'Brian. 
Margaret O'Brian very ill and in bed. 

Margaret O'Brian. I tell you, John, Dennis is coming. He will 
be here very soon. 

John O'Brian. I hope he may; but all looks gloomy enough 
now. 

Margaret O'Brian. I want to live long enough to see him, and tell 
him all the wrongs we have suffered, and have him try to find poor 
Lena. 

John 0' Brian. Poor Dennis' 1% will be little comfort he will 



LANDLORD AND TENANT. 15 

take in coming back, when he sees us turned out of doors and every- 
thing gone. 

Margaret 0' Brian. I hear him! I hear him! I know his foot- 
steps! (Enter Dennis O'Beian.) 

Dennis <y Brian. How do you do, grandfather, and grandmother, 
too, and you so ill. I had expected to have seen you both well, and 
as I left you. 

John 0' Brian. The world has gone very ill with us since you left 
us, my son, and it is a bad way we are in now, to be sure; but we 
are both glad to see you. Margaret said you would be coming 
to-day, but I little thought how you could come back to us again. 

Margaret 0' Brian. I knew you would come. I saw you last night 
in the hedge, and was so glad you were coming, for I am not long 
for this world ; and I wanted to tell you how we have been treated 
and how much we had suffered, before I died. 

Dennis O'Brian. Do not talk about dying, grandmother. I have 
come back now and will take care of you, and you will soon be well 
again. But where are my two sisters, are they not here ? 

John 0' Brian. Bridget is a nurse at the hospital, but only makes 
a bare living for herself. Lena went to Dunrose Castle, into service 
there as maid, but — but — 

Margaret 0' Brian. But is gone now, and — and — that is one thing 
I want to tell you of. We have notice to quit this place because we 
cannot pay the rent, and we must leave here and cannot stay any 
longer than to-day. And we do not know where to go or what is to 
become of us. But I feel that I will not need a place long, and if 
God spares me to tell you of our wrongs, my son, I shall be content 
to die. But before I begin, let me know how you made your escape 
and got back here. Then I will tell you all. While you talk I will 
rest, and collect my thoughts, to tell you what you must hear. 

Dennis O'Brian. My tale is soon told. I took leg-bail on them 
and was not long in getting on a ship, where I found some of my 
own countrymen, and they stowed me away; and after I reached 
Ireland, it did not bother me much to get home; and that is all that is 
worth the telling. But I will have to keep clear of the constables 
for a while, for they might want to send me back to that same place 
again, and I am not ready to go. 

John 0' Brian. We are very thankful to see you back, even if you 
did run away from them ; but I am sorry you find us so bad off. 

Margaret O'Brian. You know we have lived here for a long time 



16 LANDLOED AND TENANT. 

on this place and worked hard to keep ourselves above want and 
raise our children in the right way. You have often heard how it 
was that your grandfather here followed the noble Wellington 
through all his campaigns, and was so terribly wounded at the battle 
of Waterloo, and since that time has cultivated this poor farm and 
never was in arrears with his rent until this year. How, though he 
was crippled in the defense of the honor of England, he has been a 
slave to a lord, and though oppressed and wronged, that government 
which he so gallantly defended has never protected him. How your 
own father, our son, answered the call for soldiers to protect 
England's interest against the encroachments of Russia, and lost his 
life in the Crimea, leaving a widow and three little children to 
mourn his loss. His poor wife soon followed him in death, and 
you all were left to us to shelter and care for as best we could ; and 
you know too well the many years of watching and struggling it 
cost us. But the government, whose battles your father gave his life 
to win, never thought of you, nor cared what became of you. Time 
rolled on and you were grown to manhood, when the oppression of 
the landlords, supported by the government, became too much to 
bear, and a society was organized to protect the people from the 
tyranny of the landlords and the despotism of the government for 
whose interests they had so often given their lives to defend and 
maintain. You being but a boy, full of the impetuosity of youth, 
feeling the stings of injustice, joined this society, and I need not 
remind you of the penalty you paid for loving your own people and 
wanting to see them freed from the yoke of servitude. But deeper 
wrongs are yet to be told ; those you know not of; but such as will 
tear your heartstrings, and if there be any manhood left in you, will 
make you swear vengeance against them, and never let you rest con- 
ent until you have visited that punishment upon them they so richly 
deserve, and let them suffer as we have done at their hands. 

Dennis 0' Brian. Never fear, grandmother. Go on, tell me all; 
and I promise you I will never rest until I have wrung from the 
oppressors a full recompense for all the wrongs they have done you 
in my absence. 

Margaret O'Brian. Be but patient and you shall hear all. Even 
more than you will want to know has happened, and would to God 
it had never occurred; but being clone, calls for vengeance. 

John 0' Brian. Do not tell him any more now, mother; it might 
excite the boy and make him do something rash. You know he 



LANDLORD AND TENANT. 17 

must keep himself kind of close for a while. You had better not 
tell him any more now. Wait a little; it won't do to tell all now. 

Margaret O'Brian. I will not be here much longer, and I must 
tell him while I can. Tour sister Lena was but a child when you 
were carried away, but she grew up, very soon, to be a beautiful 
woman; in size and appearance fully mature, but in disposition and 
experience a perfect child. She went to Dunrose Castle to do ser- 
vice there as maid. We were too poor to keep the girls, and they 
had to care for themselves, and we thought it for the best, God 
knows. Not long after she went there to live, Lord Arthur came to 
Ireland and spent some time at the castle, where he saw Lena, and 
her beauty seemed to fascinate him. He did everything he could to 
accomplish her ruin; but did not succeed until he cloaked his vil- 
lainies in the lawful guise of a proposal of marriage; but imposed 
secrecy upon her, and charged her not to tell any of her friends or 
family about it, as he intended keeping it a secret from his own peo- 
ple, as it would ruin him if found out. And by various means he 
kept her imagination fed, and held out all the allurements of wealth 
and station, and thus gained her consent to a secret marriage. You 
can guess the rest. He had a mock service performed, and she be- 
lieving she was married, left with him, and they both went to 
America. After having been gone a year, hf has returned without 
her, and I hear basely deserted her there, in a strange country, with- 
out money and without friends. And this was your sister! Beauti_ 
ful, and as pure as an angel, seduced, debauched, and deserted ; 
ruined for earth and Heaven! And yet that man still lives, and his 
father orders us to be cast out of this our only shelter, to starve and 
die where we may. And yet this is Great Britain, a free govern- 
ment! But its provisions do not reach the poor of Ireland, except to 
sustain their oppressors. 

Dennis 0' Brian. Ruined for earth and Heaven ! Mother, oh 
mother, I swear to you this base crime shall not go unpunished. 
He is not worthy to be called a man and suffer such wrongs as these 
to be heaped upon him, and still bow the suppliant neck. Ah, no! 
I have not sunk so low as to allow this most unnatural wrong to 
pass unheeded and unavenged. (Noise outside. John O ' Brian #<?es 
out and finds bailiff and guards there.) 

John O'Brian. Do go away. We have one more day, and the old 
woman is very sick and cannot be moved to-day, or I would have 
been gone. She has been very bad off ever since you were here. 
2— L. & T. 



18 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

Do give us one more day. It will do no harm td anybody, one day 
will not, and she is so ill, and the weather is very bad, and we are 
both so old, and have no place to go to and no one to help us. 

Tim Grady. Get out with you. I have my orders and cannot 
wait a day for anybody, sick or well. I will tumble you all out, 
and to-day, too. 

John 0' 'Brian. (Catching liold of him.) No ! no ! do not go in, 
she is very ill and we will leave. 

Tim Grady. Out with you. I will get her out, never fear. (Jerks 
loose from John-, and the old man falls, and Tim Grady enters. Den- 
nis has stepped to one side out of view. Tim Grady going to the bed, 
catches hold of Mrs. O'Brian.) 

Tim Grady. Get out of that; you can't fool me; it will not work. 
(Pulls her to her feet on the floor. Dennis rushes towards him, draw- 
ing a knife, catch"s Tim Grady by the throat, and stabs, and Tim falls 
to the floor.) 

Dennis O'Brian. Let her loose, and take that to hell with you, 
where you will have time to make your settlements. (Margaret 
O'Brian, being released from his hold, is about to full, but is caught 
by Dennis, who throws his knife down and gently lifts her onto the 
bed, but the shock has been too much for her, and she is dead.) 

Dennis O'Brian. She is dead! she is dead! and that brute has 
killed her. (Guards run in and catch him and pinion his arms, be- 
fore he realizes what is being done. Looking around and seeing the 
situation.) I am lost ! I am lost ! Ruined for earth and Heaven, 
and yet I am unavenged on the man who has so cruelly wronged us. 

(Exit all.) 

(End of act II, scene 3.) 



ACT III. 

Scene 1. — Dunrose Mansion, London. Enter Lady Dunrose. 

Lady Dunrose. 1 am blessed with such a noble son and such a 
charming and beautiful daughter. Never did a mother have greater 
reason to feel proud ot her children. Both are courted and admired 
by all they meet. And the way young ladies single out Arthur to 
lavish their attentions and charms on him, is really disgusting. He 
could choose any one of them for a wife, and have her for the ask- 
ing. It is really wonderful. And Cecilia! tue gentlemen throng 



LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 19 

about and follow her wherever she goes. (Enter Lady Cecilia.) 
Good morning, my daughter, I hope you feel well this morning. 
After so much gaiety last evening you would hardly be otherwise 
than tired to-day. 

Lady Cecilia. Ah, no! Not tired, but on the contrary very well. 
I enjoyed the evening so much, and my Lord Clarence was so agree- 
able ; and did you observe how very attentive he was to me ? It made 
the Countess of Beargrass very jealous that I should have commanded 
his time, when she had intended to secure him for one of her plain 
daughters. How can I thank you for the beautiful blue dresses you 
ordered from Worth's. That one I wore last night was so admired by 
every one. In fact, all ten of them are exquisite in every way, and 
oh ! so lovely and so becoming to me. 

Lady Dunrose. They ought to be nice when they cost one hun- 
dred pounds apiece. But if they suit you, and are becoming, I do not 
care for the cost. I am determined you shall appear well dressed. 

Lady Cecilia. I was afraid those miserable tenants' not paying 
their rent would prevent me from getting what I needed. But if I 
were father I would have the money out of them. What use have 
they for money, anyway ? They have never been accustomed to have 
anything, and would not know what to do with it if they had. I 
hate low, common people. I do not see what use they are in the 
world, and we would be better off if there were none. They are only 
fit to serve us who require them to wait on us, and do the drudging, 
for our constitutions are too delicate to work, and besides it is un- 
refined. 

Lady Dunrose. You are right, my daughter. I have always felt 
that way. But here comes some wine. Your father has just pur- 
chased a lot that is said to be very fine— a guinea the bottle; and, if 
you like, you cao join me in sampling a bottle, and we will see if it 
equals its reputation. 

Lady Cecilia. Certainly, most happy to join you. Your health! 
Ah, it is delicious. I hope he has secured a plenty of it. 

Lady Dunrose. Oh yes, he has obtained quite a liberal supply, 
for we will use a good deal in our entertainments this season. 

Lady Cecilia. Mother, I looked in the Heraldry last night when 
I returned from the party, and find Lord Clarence's family were 
titled by William the Conqueror. How nice to have such quarter- 
ings. Oh, how utterly delightful ! And I think he will propose the 
next time he comes to call. He said last evening he wanted to see 



20 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

my father on some business as soon as possible, and I know it is to 
procure his consent; but he need not have taken that trouble. But 
you know he is such a fine gentleman, and so noble and agree 
able, and will have a very large estate with his title. Marchioness 

of ! I cannot speak the name; it is too delightful to think of. 

What grand living we will have. Do you think father can afford 
me a respectable dower? Oh, there come those miserable tenants 
with the rents unpaid to interfere again with my happiness. 

Lady Dunrose. You have every reason to feel proud of the con- 
quest of my Lord, and as to the dower, if we have to turn every one 
of the wretches off of the estate in order to raise the amount, why 
we will do it. We cannot afford to sacrifice your future happiness 
to gratify such a lot of whining, complaining, shiftless set of de- 
graded wretches. Ah, no! not by any means! And if they must 
all be turned out, why turn them out. And my Lord Dunrose will 
have no peace, day or night, until he does it. He knows me, and 
will not dare refuse me anything I ask in earnest ; for he knows I am 
a determined woman and will have my way about such things. 
Sacrifice a marriage with a noble house like my Lord's, for the sake 
of the comfort and gratification of such things as tenants! No, 
never! 

Lady Cecilia. How can I express to you my gratitude. For this 
arranged, and I married to my Lord, then indeed my happiness 
would be complete — one constant flow of bliss. 

Lady Dunrose. Show your gratitude by leaving it all to me, and 
I tell you, it all shall be arranged satisfactorily. (Enter Lord Dun- 
rose.) 

Lord Dunrose. Your sentiments do you honor. But from my 
mail that reaches me to-day, I fear your expressions are a little posi- 
tive, considering the condition of our affairs in Ireland. And if 
you will give me your attention, I will read you what I have re- 
ceived. 

Lady Dunrose. What has happened now? No more bad news; 
and all seemed so smiling and lovely. What can it bs to further 
annoy us ? 

Lady Uecilia. And my chances so flattering to become a mar- 
chioness. It will be too dreadful if anything occurs to prevent it. 

Lord Dunrose. A marchioness! Well, Lord Clarence did hint to 
me that at some convenient time he had something to communicate 
to me, and that is where the wind lies, is it? But I fear, for the 



LANDLORD AND TENANT. 21 

present, that will have to be postponed, as you will see vvnen I read 
what I have here. (Beads.) " I gave notice on tenants as you 
ordered, and Tim Grady, a very trusty man, served the notices; and 
at the proper time to eject them, took a guard, and all those who did 
not pay the rent he had them set out of doors. But when he came 
to old O'Brian's, who should be there but Dennis O'Brian, and when 
Tim undertook to execute the writ, Dennis stabbed him with a 
knife and killed him. But the guard took Dennis prisoner and he 
is now in the jail. But if he is not dealt with severely, it will be 
no use trying to do anything here, as the tenants are all in sympathy 
with him, and everything looks very discouraging to get any money 
out of them. If your Lordship can find the time, it might be well 
for you to just come over and see to the trial; for no one will be 
safe to do business if the likes of this occurs and goes unpun- 
ished." What do you tli ink of that? It seems that the rents are 
not to be paid and possession surrendered without trouble and blood- 
shed. But Arthur and I will both go over there and see that the 
scoundrel gets his dues, and teach the others a lesson they will not 
forget for a while. 

Lady Dunrose. Oh, clear! to think all our plans are interfered 
with and set at naught by such low, degraded and miserable things 
as those tenants are. It is humiliating to think that they can in 
any way control us. Oh, it is dreadful! But I would go and teach 
that scoundrel what it is to kill one of my bailiffs, in the proper dis- 
charge of his duty, in maintaining our rights. The audacity of 
such a thing! I thought he had been transported. How came he 
there at that time, I would like to know? 

Lord Dunrose. Macguire does not say, and I do not know. But 
I shall attend to his case when I get over there. But I must see 
Arthur and prepare for the journey. Dela} T s are dangerous, and if 
the prosecution is to have any effect, it must be done quickly. There 
is too much at stake to hesitate now. 

Lady Cecilia. I am in despair. I would rather see a hundred 
tenants starve to death than to have my marriage with my Lord in- 
terfered with. Because they have no feelings, they think we have 
none. 

Lord Dunrose (looking around sees Worth's bill). What is this? 
You do not mean to say you have indulged in this extravagance at 
this time? (Beading.) "Two thousand pounds! " It is not possi- 
ble ! Why, with Arthur's trip to America, and the failure to collect 
rents, I have already overdrawn my bank account. 



22 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

Lady Dunrose. You do not suppose we can go naked ! If you 
had begun in time with those tenants, you would have had the rent 
long ago, and suffered none of this inconvenience ; but you left it to 
Macguire, who does not care what beomes of us. Now, if you go 
there yourself and let them know you will have it out of them, they 
can and will pay you all. 

Lady Cecilia. How could I ever expect to find a suitable husband 
unless 1 dressed becoming my station; and to go into society with- 
out fashionable clothes, is to go to be ridiculed and laughed at, 
and it would be far better not to go at all. 

Lord Dunrose. The situation is exasperating, but I cannot waste 
words now. I must see Arthur and prepare to go to Ireland. I 
will send for him to come here, and while I wait for him, will be 
arranging my affairs for our departure. (Exit Lord Dunrose.) 

Lady Dunrose. I have no patience with those miserable tenants. 
And if I had my way and the power, would drive them all out to 
starve if they did not find some way to live. But we must be pre- 
paring for that grand party that we go to this evening, and we have 
no time to think of such disagreeable, disgusting things — such low, 
contemptible things as tenants who will not pay their rent. 

Lady Cecilia. No, they are not worth considering for a moment. 
Oh, I will meet my Lord again tonight, and I shall be so happy in 
his company, and seeing him smile so sweetly upon me. Oh, it is 
simply lovely to have a handsome young man smile upon you and 
look as if he could eat you for pure love ! Oh, it is heavenly ! 
But I must go to prepare, and I must look my best. 
(End scene 1.) 

Scene 2. — Lodgings in London. Enter Lord Arthur and Pat 

McTlERNAN. 

Pat McTiernan. Your Lordship, here is a note from Lord Dun- 
rose; it was just delivered by a servant. (Lord Arthur opens and 
reads.) 

Lord Arthur. He says he wants to see me at once, and to prepare 
to go with him to Ireland, as one of his bailiffs has been killed by 
one of the tenants, because the bailiff was trying to eject him. I do 
not see what good it would do for me to go there. I do not think it 
is very healthy over there. I am not entirely over my trip to Amer- 
ica, and if I have a relapse it will be fearful hard on me. Pat, that 
country is not healthy for one in my condition, do you think it is? 



LANDLORD AND TENANT. 23 

Pat McTiernan. You seemed to be very well when there before, 
sir, and I do not think it likely the country has changed very much, 
sir. (Aside.) I expect he is afraid of meeting some one he does not 
want to see. 

Lord Arthur. I see you want to go yourself and expect to accom- 
pany me if I make the trip, and you shall; but mighty little time 
you will have to frolic when we get there. Confound it! there are 
all the parties and my little affair with Lady Ann. Why, I could 
marry her and get enough dower with her to keep me going for 
some time; but this knocks it all up, to be sure. By Jove, it is hard 
luck for a fellow to be so near taking the game and then be com- 
pelled to give up the chase, you, know. By Jove, it is rather hard. 
But I do not want to go to Ireland. That woman might get back, 
and — and — she might be troublesome, you know. Pat, do you 
know what tenant it was that did the killing? 

Pat McTiernan. I heard, sir, that it was Dennis O'Brian, sir; and 
that he had just got back from transportation, sir, and that he stuck 
a knife in Tim Grady, sir, and that was all I heard, sir. 

Lord Arthur. What Dennis O'Brian? Lena's brother? 

Pat McTiernan. The very same, sir, as I live. (Aside.) That 
scares him all over. 

Lord Arthur. Then I do not want to go there. The fellow might 
take offense at what I did — that little affair with Lena — and take 
a notion to stick a knife in me, too. That malaria, it is very bad 
again, and it would be out of all reason for me to expose myself to 
a relapse by going to such a country as Ireland. But I must go to 
my father, and learn from him what he wants to do. (Exit Loud 
Arthur.) 

Pat McTiernan. A fine young man that, to be sure. And " Den- 
nis might take offense at what he had done! " Dennis would be a 
dog if he did not, and you well may talk about the country being 
unhealthy. It is, for the likes of you. (Exit.) 
(End of scene 2, act III.) 

Scene 3. — Lord Dunrose's Mansion, London. Enter Lords Dunrose 
and Arthur. 

Lord Dunrose. Well, you received my message, did you? 
Lord Arthur. Yes, sir, and am here in response to it. If I may 
ask, what is it that called for so much haste ? 



24 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

Lord Dunrose (handing him Macguire's letter). Read that and 
see what you think of it. It is my opinion that we cannot be too 
prompt in taking action in the premises; and cost what it may, we 
are bound to get that fellow convicted and executed; for while he 
lives our own lives are not safe. It is a high-handed outrage to kill 
an officer of the law in the discharge of his duty. 

Lord Arthur. It looks as though it was rather taking things by 
storm. By Jove, it does. And we are not sure that he will not try 
his hand on us if it is in his power. But I will be careful to keep 
out of his way if that is his style, you know. It would not be very 
pleasant, you know, to have one's self dissected while yet alive. By 
Jove, it would not be just the thing. It might be disfiguring. 

Lord Dunrose. Now, Arthur, I have made up my mind that you 
and I had better go to Ireland immediately, and see that Dennis 
O'Brian has a trial as soon as possible, and is convicted, and no time 
lost in his execution. You can go and prepare to make the trip, for 
our own safety depends upon it. 

Lord Arthur. Do you think it is necessary for me to go, too? My 
health is very poor, you know, and this accursed malaria is all 
through my system, and I might have a relapse, and, by Jove, that 
might be very serious in its consequences, you know. 

Lord Dunrose. Come, come ! I think it best for both of us to go, 
so do not waste any time in getting ready for the journey. 

Lord Arthur. My health is so poor, don't you think you could 
get along without me? Oh, that malaria; it is awful! And they 
might bring it out about the woman, and that would ruin my pros- 
pects with Lady Ann, you know; and she is very sweet on me just 
now, and if I propose she will no doubt accept me, and you see this 
is a critical lime. Don't you think you could get along without me 
over there? 

Lord Dunrose. I admit it is very hard to take you away from so 
charming a young lady, but I have thought the matter over and 
think it best for you to go with me. There will be a great many 
things to be attended to there, and you will have to go to assist me. 
In such cases it will not do to trust anything to servants. Besides, 
the value of my estates in Ireland depends on the blow we strike 
now; for unless we make such things odious, we will never be able 
to collect our rents at all, as they would kill all our agents who 
undertook to enforce payment. We must prosecute this fellow above 
any other for your safety. If he will kill a bailiff who only repre- 



LANDLORD AND TENANT. 25 

sents us, you may be sure he only wants an opportunity to take our 
lives too. So go now and prepare for the voyage, as it will soon be 
time for us to start. 

Lord Arthur. "Well, if you think best, I will go; but fear that 
awful malaria that is all through my system. (Enter Ladies Dun- 
rose a?ifZ Cectlia.) This is awful news from Ireland. I do not know 
what is to become of us if this goes on much longer. There is no 
telling where it will all end; and we go to Ireland. 

Lady Dunrose. Yes, yes. And do not let your father show them 
any mercy, but see to collecting all the rents. 

Lady Cecilia. Just think how terrible to kill an officer of the law 
in the discharge of his duty, and by a man who had been transported, 
and whose sister had left a good home and service to run off with 
some worthless fellow and disgrace herself. It is a bad family, all 
of them, and that man ought to be hanged. Hanging is too good 
for him. With a knife to kill an officer who was simply doing his 
duty. Ah, those tenants! I hate them all, and do not see that they 
are good for anything except to wrong people. The ungrateful 
wretches ! When we furnish them everything they have, and then 
they do not want to pay the rent. 

Lady Dunrose. Look to it, Arthur, that they get justice done them, 
and do not let one of them escape. That miserable girl ! No doubt 
when she hears her brother is in trouble, she will be coming back 
with that pretty face of hers to try and use it to defeat justice. But 
you and your father must see to it, that it does no good. A woman 
with a pretty face can sometimes do wonders with men, even men of 
station. But you are going to prepare for your journey, and we will 
not detain you any longer, so good-bye. 

Lord Arthur. Good-bye, mother. I will try to remember all you 
say, and do it. That is a very bad family, I know. Farewell, 
Cecilia. 

Lady Cecilia. Adieu! And do not forget to do all you can to 
have the bailiff avenged. And if the girl turns up, just have her 
sent to the work-house or some other place, for running away. I 
know it was with some low fellow she ran away. 

Lord Dunrose. Well, are you through ? If so, listen to me. Do 
not indulge in any foolish extravagance while I am gone, and when 
I get those affairs in Ireland arranged and return, I will have time 
to consider things of less importance. 

Lady Dunrose. What, call my daughter's settlement in life of less 



26 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

importance than a bailiff and a few tenants, who, if they had their 
just deserts, would all be hanged ! But we will not discuss the sub- 
ject further; but hope you will remember your family requires 
means to live upon, and the tenants must pay their rent, come what 
will. 

Lord Dunrose. Very good. But things are sometimes more easily 
said than done. I must say good-bye, and when I return will hope 
to find you well and happy. If it chance that I will be detained 
there very long, I may send for you. And Cecilia, if my Lord Clar- 
ence seems to desire it, you can invite him over to Dunrose Castle, 
where there is capital hunting and fishing. 

Lady Dunrose. You see that Dennis O'Brian gets his just dues, 
and, if need be, we will come over too. Farewell ! 

Lady Cecilia. I will certainly invite my Lord Clarence if you 
send for us. Adieu! Adieu! 

(End act III, scene 3.) 



ACT IV. 



Scene 1. — Boom in Ireland. Enter Lords Dunrose and Arthur, 
and Collins. 

Lord Dunrose. You see, Mr. Collins, this is a very aggravated 
case, and we must secure a conviction at all hazards. You know 
what our reasons are for wanting to get rid of this man. Our own 
personal safety depends upon it. And you may rest assured that 
you shall be well paid for your services; and no stone must be left 
unturned. 

Collins. But, my Lord, it will be difficult to secure a conviction 
for murder, when the man supposed to have been killed still lives. 
The defense may get wind of it, and then we could do nothing. 

Lord Dunrose. Never fear, I will see that the attorney for the de- 
fense shall be well cared for, and they have no way of connecting the 
man in the hospital with the bailiff supposed to have been killed. 
And long before he gets well, we can have the fellow tried, con- 
victed and executed. Positively, sir, if an example is not made of 
this fellow, my estates in Ireland will not be worth the owning. 
Besides, our personal safety demands his execution; and I had 
rather sacrifice the lives of half my tenantry than endanger our 
own. 



LANDLOBD AND TENANT. 27 

Collins. Perfectly right, sir; perfectly right. And I shall do my 
best, and God help him, for He alone can save him when we begin. 

Lord Arthur. My life is in danger, and in the shattered condition 
of my constitution, this sort of thing is not pleasant. The fellow, I 
hear, swears vengeance against me on account of my little affair with 
his sister, you know, when he ought to feel flattered, by Jove. The 
malaria is affecting me, and I wish I could go back to England ; it 
is far more agreeable. But if I must stay, will have to endure it, 
you know. You think we can get rid of this fellow? It will be a 
great relief; avoid scandal, you know. 

Collins. Well, if you have no further instructions, I will go and 
prepare for the case, as it is nearly time for the court to be opened. 
We do not want any delays, and if we can exclude the old man's tes- 
timony, as I think we can, there will be virtually no defense, unless 
the man Tim Grady turns up in court. 

Lord Dunrose. I do not see that they have anything else that 
would mitigate the aggravation, if you can get the court to exclude 
his evidence. As to Tim Grady appearing, there is no danger of his 
being able to leave the hospital for some time to come. But we will 
adjourn to the court. (Exit all.) 

(End scene 1, act IV.) 

Scene 2. — Court room in Ireland. Enter Judge, Officers, etc. 

Collins. May it please the court : The cause now coming on to be 
heard is the Crown vs. Dennis O'Brian, charged with the crime of 
murder; and for and in behalf of the Crown, I am here to announce 
ready for trial. 

Judge. What says the defendant, is he ready? 

FUnnagan. The defendant is ready, your honor. 

Collins. The defendant is charged in this indictment with the of- 
fense of murder. 

Judge. How does the defendant-plead to the charge — guilty or 
not guilty ? 

FUnnagan. Not guilty, and on this he is willing to put himself 
upon the country. 

Judge. Call the jury, and let them enter the box as called. 
(Clerk calls jury, and they enter the box.) 

Judge. What says the Crown's attorney to the panel ? 

Collins. The Crown will take the jury. 



28 LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 

Judge. What says defendant ? 

Flinnagan. The defendant is satisfied with the jury. 

Judge. You will proceed to open your case, Mr. Crown Attorney. 

Collins. May it please the court and gentlemen of the jury: This 
defendant is charged in this indictment with the crime of murder, 
and we expect to prove every material allegation set forth therein. 
And we do not think it in the power of the defence to produce any 
evidence that will be in contravention thereof. That Dennis O'Brian, 
as is set out in this indictment, did unlawfully and with his malice 
aforethought, willfully and maliciously assault and kill, with a 
knife, one Tim Grady, an officer of the law, in the lawful discharge 
of his official duties, on or about the 10th day of December, in the 

year of our Lord, 18 — , in the county of , in Ireland, against 

the peace and dignity of the Crown, we expect to prove conclusively. 
And we will further prove that at that time he was an escaped con- 
vict, having been sentenced to transportation, and his term was not 
then, nor is it yet expired. All these facts we will plainly show to 
the satisfaction of this court and this jury, and we do not think it is 
in the power of this defendant to prove anything to the contrary. 
We will call bailiff as first witness. (Bailiff, after being sworn, 
takes the stand.) 

Collins. What is your occupation ? 

Bailiff. I am second bailiff, sir. 

Collins. Do you know the defendant in this case? If so, point 
him out, and tell his name, if you know it. 

Bailiff. Dennis O'Brian is his name, and that is the man. 
(Pointing.) 

Collins. Where were you, and what were you doing, on or about 
December 10, 18—? 

Bailiff. I was with Tim Grady, ejecting tenants on the Dunrose 
estate. 

Collins. State whether or not you saw this defendant there, and if 
so, what took place when you saw him. 

Bailiff. It was at old John O'Brian's, and while I stood outside, 
Tim Grady went in to get the old woman out, and I saw this de- 
fendant run at Tim Grady and catch him by the throat and stick a 
knife into him, and Tim Grady fell down dead, sir, and the guards 
and I ran into the house and took him prisoner; and while some car- 
ried Tim Grady home to be buried, I took charge of the prisoner 
and carried him to jail, sir. That is all I know about it, sir. 



LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 29 

Collins. Do you know that Tim Grady was killed at that time? 

Bailiff. I do, sir. I saw him dead there, before my own eyes. 

Collins. Do you know whether or not Tim Grady was an officer 
of the law? 

Bailiff. Sure and I did ; for I was one myself, and was there with 
him, and he was doing his duty in ejecting tenauts. 

Collins. We are through with this witness. 

Flinnagan. I do not wish to cross-examine the witness. 

Collins. I wish to introduce a record to show a former convic- 
tion of this defendant for felony, and his sentence to transportation. 

Flinnagan. We admit that fact, as it is a matter of record in this 
court. 

Collins. Then the prosecution will rest, as we have already proven 
the material allegations set out in the iudictment. 

Flinnagan. May it please the court and gentlemen of the jury: 
We do not expect to prove that Dennis O'Brian did not make the 
attack on Tim Brady, as testified to by the bailiff, but we do expect 
to show such mitigating and exasperating circumstances as drove 
him to make the attack; and for that purpose will introduce on the 
witness stand the grandfather of the defendant, who will testify to 
the harsh manner of the officer, and to a previous conversation 
which had just taken place between the defendant and his grand- 
mother, and had so excited him that he was unable to control him- 
self, and in the sudden heat of passion, did the deed for which he is 
being tried. John O'Brian will take the stand and be sworn. (Take's 
the stand and is sworn.) 

Flinnagan. Now, John O'Brian, please tell the court and jury 
what the conversation was that had so aroused Dennis just before 
the bailiff came to your house. 

Collins. I object to the admission of any testimony touching 
what occurred before the bailiff reached there, as it is irrelevant and 
not a part of the res ge.stoz. Nothing can be admitted but what is 
directly bearing on the facts in the case, and nothing transpiring 
prior or subsequent thereto can have any application whatever. 
Therefore think your honor will exclude this evidence. 
Judge. The objection is well taken. 

Flinnagan. If the court adheres strictly to this ruling, the de- 
fense has no further evidence to present, and will simply ask the 
mercy of the court and the jury in behalf of the accused, and re- 
luctantly announce that the defense has closed. 



30 LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 

Collins- May it please the court and gentlemen of the jury : It is 
only necessary to remind your honor of the law applicable in this 
case, that you may instruct the jury as to their duty. The indict- 
ment has been sustained by the evideuce, and there is nothing further 
to be done in behalf of the Crown, since there has been no defence 
made. Gentlemen of the jury, it will hardly be worth the while to 
call your attention to the facts, as the testimony is direct and posi- 
tive, and entirely unincumbered with auy conflicting evidence. 
You will therefore have no trouble, under the instructions of the 
court, in finding a verdict; and that can only be to find the defend- 
ant guilty. It is a painful duty for a jury to render a verdict that 
will result in the execution of a fellow being; but where a man so 
far forgets himself as to take the life of another, and that, too, with- 
out provocation and in cold blood, as is plainly shown to have been 
clone in this case, all sentimentalities must be laid aside, and let the 
majesty of the law take its course. And to-day you will vindicate 
the honor of the Crown, and discharge your duty as good citizens, 
by rendering a verdict in accordance with the evidence that has been 
presented before you. 

Judge. Gentlemen of the jury: You have heard the evidence in 
the case, and if you believe from the testimony that the defendant is 
guilty, you will so find in your verdict. But if there is a reasonable 
doubt in your minds as to the fact that the defendant did do the 
killing, then in that case you will acquit the defendant. You can 
select your oWn foreman, and he will take charge of the papers in 
the case, and when you have arrived at your verdict, you will write 
it down and the foreman will present it to the court in your pres- 
ence. If you have already N made up your minds, it will not be 
necessary to leave the box; but if not, you can retire for further de- 
liberation. (Jury consult in box.) 

Foreman. We have agreed on a verdict, and I have been selected 
foreman to present it to your honor. ( Presents verdict. Court reads.) 

Judge. " We, the jury, find the defendant guilty of murder as 
charged in the indictment." The court will allow the defendant time 
for such motions for new trial or to take the necessary steps for an ap- 
peal, if he desires ; and if he does not wish to take advantage of these 
rights, then the court, at the expiration of the time allowed by law, 
will pass sentence on the prisoner in accordance with the law and 
the verdict. The officer will take charge of the prisoner and be pre- 
pared to produce him in court at the proper time. Court will have 
recess. 



LANDLORD AKD TENAHT. 31 

John 0' Brian. Oh, my son! my son! Is it possible that you have 
been convicted, and I was not allowed to testify in your defense. 
"What will become of me! what will become of me! Oh, Dennis! 
Oh, my son! Is it a dream, a terrible dream, or can all I have seen 
be true ! 

Dennis O'Brian. Dear grandfather, do not distress yourself about 
me. It is not more than could be expected. Justice will never be 
given a poor man in this country. And when he has offended the 
rich, there is no law for his benefit; but he must be gotten out of the 
way. Cheer up, cheer up ! You still have Bridget to look after you ; 
and poor Lena, she may come back to you again. I am but another 
victim to the oppression that is crushing the people of our poor un- 
happy country. Soon the cup will overflow, and then— (Leading 
him out.) 

John O'Brian. My poor son ! my poor son ! I cannot live much 
longer. This is too much ! This is too much ! 

Lord Dunrose. Well, Arthur, I think we are nearly rid of him. 
Collins, you managed well ; and if we can keep things dark for a 
few days, it will be the end of him at least, and I will breathe easier. 

Collins. Oh, yes, I think everything is in a flattering condition. 
But you had better give Flinnagan employment that will take him 
away for a few days, and I will move the court at the earliest time 
possible to pass sentence upon him. Then it will all be over with 
him, unless he has more influence to secure his pardon than I think 
he can command. You had better look after Flinnagan, my Lord. 
"A hint to the wise," you know. 

Lord Dunrose. I shall do so at once. Arthur, send for your 
mother and sister. We will celebrate our victory by making Dun- 
rose Castle the scene of pleasure. (Exit all.) 

(End scene 2, act L V.) 

Scene 3. — Hospital. Enter Tim Grady and Bridget O'Brian. 

Tim Grady. What is the matter, my good nurse ? You are very 
downhearted to-day. What has gone wrong with you? 

Bridget O'Brian. Oh, you are a stranger, but I have had so much 
trouble, and everything seems to have gone wrong with me and my 
family. My poor brother! He has been convicted of murder, and 
will be sentenced to-day to be hung, and I want to go to the court to 
see him once more. Oh, my poor brother ! They never give a poor 



32 LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 

man a chance for his life in this country, and we have no friends to 
help us. 

Tim Grady. My good woman, do not distress yourself. May be 
something can yet be done for him. What is his name, and whom 
did he kill ? 

Bridget O'Brian. My brother's name is Dennis O'Brian, and he 
killed one of my Lord Dunrose's bailiffs. I do not know his name ; 
but nothing can be done to help him, I know. It is too late. 

Tim Grady. What, Dennis O'Brian ! Old John OBrian's grand- 
son ! Has he been convicted ? 

Bridget O'Brian. Indeed he has, and will get his sentence to-day. 

Tim Grady. Is he your brother? You who have nursed me 
into life again ? 

Bridget O'Brian. He is my brother, my only brother. And Lord 
Arthur took my sister off with him to America, and grandmother 
had just been telling him about it when the bailiff got there, and his 
patience was all gone. But he has a good heart, and had only come 
back from Australia, where he had been transported. And to think 
that just after he had reached home ! Oh, my poor brother ! I wish 
I could save you. What would I not give to save you. 

Tim Grady. My clear good woman, I can and will save him. I 
am the man he is charged with killfcig, and it is an outrage on 
humanity the way this prosecution has been conducted. And since 
you have explained to me how it came about, I bear him no malice; 
and for your sake, if nothing else, I will go to the court room, and 
there prove to the court that your brother has been wrongfully con- 
victed. And in the future. I for one will never persecute my own 
people again. 

Bridget O'Brian. Is what you say true? And can you really 
save my brother's life ? I am so glad. 

Tim Grady. Indeed it is true, and I will do it. But you will have 
to assist me, as I am too weak to go by myself. 

Bridget O'Brian. Oh, I will do anything. You are now so thin 
and light, I think I might even carry you there, if necessary to save 
his life. And to think all this time I have been nursing you, and 
never knew who you were ! But you came in while I was away. I 
had gone to my grandmother's funeral. You know she died at that 
time. 

Tim Grady. What, did she die at that time? And I did not be- 
lieve she was even sick. My own roughness killed her. And it was 



LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 33 

that caused your brother to attack me. I see it all. I was a bruta 
then, but am the more determined to deliver him. Ah ! this is a vile 
conspiracy to take an innocent man's life, and I have been kept in 
ignorance of all that has been taking place, so that their schemes to 
take his life might not be interfered with. 

Bridget 1 Brian. We have but little time to spare if we are to get 
there in time to save his life, so we had better be off. Let me assist 
you, and, with God's help, we will be in time. 

Tim Grady. It is to save a man's life, and we must be there in 
time. And may God and the Holy Mother help us! Such crimes as 
these will make every Irishman a patriot, and such wrongs cry out 
with flaming tongues to every man who has a soul, to rise up in the 
defense of his country ; and makes us realize that we have been 
slaves. But this will not last much longer. When Irishmen are 
once aroused — and such damnable outrages as this will soon awaken 
them — nothing will check them; and they will sweep every vestige 
of this despotism from the land. But let us go to prevent this mur- 
der of your brother. God help us and him ! (Exit all.) 

(End scene 3, act IV.) 

Scene 4. — Court-room in Ireland. Enter Lords and Ladies, Court, 
Attorneys, etc. 

Lord Dunrose. This is the scene of our triumph. To-day we will 
have the victory complete, and it will establish the rights of land, 
lords. 

Lady Dunrose. It is time, I am sure, that those creatures had been 
taught to know their places, and that they owe all they have to their 
lords and masters. 

Lady Qecih'a. Will he soon be brought in ? I know he looks like 
a monster. It will do me good to see him get his dues. 

Collins. I did not think you so hard-hearted, my Lady, as to want 
to see anybody executed. 

Lady Cecilia. Oh, this is such a monster and a brute, and has 
committed a murder, and has been transported, and belongs to a horrid 
family. And besides, what difference does it make to such things as 
they are, whether they live or die ? 

Lord Dunrose. I say, Collins, everything works to our purpose, 
does it? I acted on your suggestion about Flinnagan. 

Collins. It could not have gone off better, and you will soon see 
3 — L. & T. 



34 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

the end of it, as the court will only allow him the accustomed op- 
portunity to say why sentence should not be passed upon him ; and 
if he fail at that time to show cause, he is past redemption. Ha! ha! 
(Enter prisoner and guards. Others, following in the rear, enter.) 

Lord Dunrose- See to everything, Collins, and be sure there are no 
slips; for you see I have my family and friends here to witness our 
triumph. Look sharp! 

Lady Cecilia. Why, he is quite handsome looking. I wonder 
what he will say. What are those other people doing here, they have 
just arrived ? Oh, what a beautiful lady, dressed in black! 

Lady Dunrose. Look, my Lords, can you tell me who the stran- 
gers are, who have just come into court? Arthur, do you know who 
the lady is? She is lovely looking, and the gentleman is hand- 
some. 

Lord Dunrose. I do not know who they are, but will inquire 
aft er a while. 

Lady Cecilia. Do you know, Arthur ? (Lord Arthur recognizes 
Lena.) 

Lord Arthur. Ah, how should I know everybody? I am no di- 
rectory. I am so afflicted with the malaria. They are looking over 
here now. It is a piece of impudence. The malaria is very try- 
ing on me. (Aside.) What is she doing here, and who is that man 
with her? I feel as if it was all over with me now. It looks like 
that American attorney. 

Judge. Dennis O'Brian, have you aught to say why the sentence 
of the law shall not be passed upon you? If so, you are at liberty 
to state it. 

Dennis O'Brian. That the trial at which I was convicted was a 
farce, no one who knows the circumstances will hesitate to affirm. . 
It is not that I fear the penalty of the law that I would wish to live, 
but that there are those who need my protection from the wrongs 
that have been and are being heaped upon them. But as I have not 
even been allowed to introduce such evidence as I had at hand, it 
gives me no choice. But while the law takes its course, Justice 
stands aloof, and I die as I have lived, for the freedom of Ireland, 
and am one more added to the list of martyrs who died for the liber- 
ties of their people. 

Brady. May it please the court: Before sentence is passed on 
this prisoner, I wish to be heard in his behalf, as his counsel is not 
here, it seems, and I have been employed by his friends to represent 
him. 



LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 35 

Collins. I object to any one appearing for the prisoner as his 
attorney, who, for aught we know, is not an attorney of this court; 
and it is late in the day to be changing counsel. 

Judge. Let the gentleman state who and what he is. 

Brady. My name is Brady, and not unknown to your honor in 
times long past, at Trinity College, Dublin, and I feel sure the court 
will not require anything further from me at present than to say I 
represent this man by legal employment. I have just arrived from 
America, and have had no time to fortify myself with my papers. 

Judge. You have permission of the court to proceed. 

Brady. In the first place, Dennis O'Brian has been convicted of 
murder, and the man murdered was Tim Grady. Come forward, 
Tim Grady, and be identified. (Tim Grady takes the sta?id,pale and 
weak.) State to the court who you are, and when you learned about 

the trial. 

Tim Grady. My name is Tim Grady, sir, and I am a bailiff, sir, 
and have been in the hospital, and very bad off, sir. I only found 
out about the trial to-day, sir, and with the assistance of my nurse, 
who had saved my life, came down here to save an innocent man's 
life. For it was my fault that he struck me as he did. And I am the 
same Tim Grady that was at the O'Brian cottage and got stabbed for 
serving a brute; and if ever I serve another lord against my own 
people, may the devil fly away with me. 

Judge. Is it possible that the prisoner has been convicted for kill- 
ing a man who is still alive ? (To bailiff.) Is this the man you tes- 
tified had been killed, in your evidence in the trial of Dennis 
O'Brian? 

Second Bailiff. It is the very same, sir, and the dead has come to 
life, to be sure; for as sure as I live, I saw him killed at that time. 

Lord Dunrose. What does all this mean ? and who is this offi- 
cious person who has come here at this hour to interfere and defeat 
all our plans? 

Collins. I never saw him before, but fear he has undone us, for 
it appears he knows everything about the case. 

Lord Arthur. I have the malaria all through me. What is to be- 
come of us? That is that American attorney, and he will get us all 
into trouble, no doubt. (Aside.) Oh, that woman, she will be the 
death of me ! She has caused all my trouble, and he here with her. 

Lady Dunrose. Is this fellow come here to interfere in our af- 
fairs ? I would like to pull his nose, and if I were a man, would do 
it for him. 



36 LANDLORD AND TENANT. 

Lord Dunrose. Arthur, he seems to have an understanding with 
your man. What, does Pat know him ? And will he betray us and 
our plans to that fellow ? If he does, we are undone. 

Lord Arthur. If he has, I will discharge the fellow without char- 
acter. But it would be my luck if he has done so. Oh, the ma- 
laria! the malaria! it unfits me for anything. 

Lady Cecilia. What are they waiting for ? I thought it would not 
take long for the sentence, and then we were all to go on with the 
hunting party, and it will soon be too late to overtake them. 

Lord Dunrose. This is no time for hunting parties. That fellow 
is about to ruin us all with his accursed officiousness. 

Brady. I think it is clear to the court that this man has been con- 
victed of an offence he had never committed. And that there has 
been a deep-laid conspiracy to take his life, I am prepared to prove, 
by unimpeachable evidence; and can further unfold the reasons 
that prompted this conspiracy. That such a scheme should have 
ever been originated shows the rottenness of the system of govern- 
ment under which it could have existed. It is such gross injustice 
as has been practiced by this self-constituted tyrant that makes all 
Ireland cry out for relief ; and every such act but cements the people, 
and moves them by a common inspiration to throw off the yoke of 
tyranny that so mercilessly galls them. Can any man who deserves 
the name of man, listen to such wrongs and not have his very blood 
boil within him? And do you expect the people, driven to desper- 
ation by the perpetration of every conceivable wrong upon them, 
to still bow patiently the suppliant knee ? Oh, no ! they do not know 
Ireland or her people if they think so. But the case at bar is too 
diabolical to be believed as occurring in this day of civilization in 
any country. Conspiracy to take a man's life under the cloak of 
justice ! And for what reason was it undertaken ? Because a guilty 
conscience so haunted two men, bearing honorable names, for the 
deepest wrongs heaped upon this poor family, that they knew did 
they get justice at the hands of this young man they would pay the 
penalty with their lives. And this is why they are here to-day, to 
witness this poor man's sentence in the name of justice, that they 
might rest at ease. But they have failed to carry their end, but have 
done most valiant service for the freedom of Ireland. 

Lord Arthur. Ah, that malaria! Confound that fellow! 

Lord Dunrose. We are undone ! We are ruined ! 

Judge. The prisoner will be discharged, as the clerk has re- 



LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 37 

ceived a proclamation of pardon that had been issued prior to his 
escape. Mr. Attorney, can you substantiate the charges of conspir- 
acy you have just made in this court? 

Brady. May it please your honor, I would like to confer with 
my Lords Dunrose and Arthur, before taking any further steps in 
this matter. 

Judge. Permission is granted. 

Dennis 0' Brian. Can it be that I am indeed free ! (Lena, Bridget, 
John O'Brian and Tim Grady all surround him, kissing and shak- 
ing hands.) Oh, this is too much joy! and when I had expected 
to be sentenced! Lena, my sister ! My sister! (Embraces her.) It 
was your wrongs that made me wild, and Bridget and grandfather, 
how happy we all are. 

Tim Grady. I forgive you, Dennis. God bless you! And we 
will go hand in hand fighting for the freedom of Ireland. It has 
made me see that my own people are slaves to a few lords, who use 
us while they may, and kick us out to die, when of no further use 
to them. 

Dennis 0' Brian. Thank you, Tim. I was sorry all the time 
when I thought I had killed you. But as now I know I have not 
the life blood of one of my countrymen upon me, I rejoice in your 
forgiveness, and thank you kindly. For it was you and that sweet 
lawyer — God bless him — who have saved my life. 

Brady. My Lords, it is useless to bandy words. I have the proof 
to convict you, and you know you are guilty. I also know and 
have proof of your marriage, Lord Arthur, with Lena O'Brian; and 
it has been all proven up. And as you have an heir, you had better 
recognize her as your wife and present her to your family. The 
bogus' marriage, as you thought, is legal and binding. So you had 
better accept the situation. 

Lord Arthur. What shall I do ! It cannot be so ! It is some 
scheme you have devised to force me to take her as my wife, and 
have brought her here from America for that purpose. I tell you I 
never married her. 

Brady. Not so fast. I have the proofs with me, and the wit- 
nesses are here. So do not deny the fact, my Lord Dunrose. I will 
expect you to make suitable provision for the poor people you have 
so deeply wronged, now related to your family through the mar- 
riage of your son. 

Lord Dunrose. I will never accede to your demands. 



38 LANDLOKD AND TENANT. 

Lord Arthur. Nor will I. That malaria! It's all through me. 

Brady. Take your choice, gentlemen — prison or my terms. For 
when once I leave you, there will be the cause of Ireland on one 
side, and two worthless Lords on the other ; and it would not be 
hard to prophesy the result. So make your choice, and at once. 

Lord Arthur. Let him have his way, father ; he is a fearful fellow. 
And this malaria! I cannot stand scenes. 

Lord Dunrose. Well, he seems to have us in his power. 

Brady. My Lady, go to your husband and be presented to your 
husband's family. (Lena goes to Arthur.) May it please the 
court, everything has been amicably arranged, and I ask leave to 
withdraw my charges for the present. 

Lady Dunrose. What do I see ! What does this mean ! We are 
disgraced ! It is too much ! too much ! Take me away. 

Brady. Pat McTiernan, I must inform you that your investments 
in American mines have made you a millionaire, and it will not be 
necessary for you to serve my Lord any longer, as he has a true- 
hearted Irishwoman to take care of him. 

Pat McTiernan. Good news again ! Well ! well ! I am rich and 
so are all my friends, but some are not satisfied with the situation. 

To laugh at first may end in tears; 
And those may laugh who start with fears. 
But woe will end when grief is past — 
The better part's to laugh at last. 

(End act I V.J 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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